Roisin greets me with a saccharine smile, fluttering her ridiculously long lashes. There's a certain coldness in her dark, evil eyes. Okay, maybe "evil" is a bit much, but I can't shake this intense dislike I have for her.
I'm strong. I'm resilient. I'm fire... I still entertain the thought of seeing her without eyebrows. Just a little spark and poof!
I shoot back a smile as sweet as candy, then pivot away from her, focusing on Ava. I purposely ignore the intense glare from the so-called queen bee, already plotting my revenge on my supposed BFF. "Did she show up?"
Ava's smile wavers slightly, and she shakes her head. "She's still working." I sigh. The chances of Isla making it to the city to help Ava and me choose a dress were slim, but I couldn't help but hold out hope.
"Erin, it's good to see you," Siobhan's voice resonates in the room, entering through a side door leading to an area for accessories, with Reagan and Caitlín trailing behind her, Reagan appearing solemn and Caitlín wearing a sour expression.
"Likewise," I smile, genuinely meaning it. I only wish Eileen was with them so I could express my gratitude in person for safeguarding Isla's identity.
"Siobhan, or should I call you mother?" Roisin interrupts, beckoning her future mother-in-law to join her, her voice dripping with syrupy sweetness. If she got any sweeter, she'd risk inducing a sugar coma. Observing Siobhan's reaction, I notice a slight shudder ripple through her, though she maintains a pleasant expression. Interesting.
"Is it getting chilly in here, ladies, or is it just me?" Siobhan remarks, attempting to deflect attention, then offers a tight-lipped expression to Roisin as she approaches. "I think 'Siobhan' would be more appropriate. You might want to reserve that title for your own mother." I have to suppress a laugh at the subtle dismissal.
Roisin, either oblivious to the brush-off or choosing to ignore it, gestures towards a wall adorned with extravagant wedding dresses. "Which one do you think Liam would like?" She ends her question with a smirk directed at me.
Bitch! Oh, Ava, you're in so much trouble.
"I think any of these dresses would look lovely," Siobhan replies, her voice neutral. "As for my son, I don't believe the dress is his focus."
"Well, I think the one on the left would look perfect on you," Caitlín offers her opinion, pointing to a dress that I swear is so over-the-top it looks like a pomeranian had a rendezvous with a silkie chicken. With its explosion of tulle and beading, the gaudy gown would have been right at home in the '80s.
"Mother, don't you think it's a bit... much?" Roisin's voice carries a hint of distaste as she wrinkles her nose.
"Nonsense. Any girl from a respectable family would appreciate a dress like this." I suppress a laugh, thinking to myself, maybe if you're on crack!
As Roisin and her mother continue to discuss options, I tune them out. Turning my attention to Ava, I notice her glancing worriedly over at Reagan, Liam's sister, who stands quietly in the corner, unusually subdued. Moving closer to my friend, I nudge her gently. "What's up with her?" I keep my voice low, ensuring only Ava can hear me.
Ava sighs and gently tugs on my hand, leading me over to a rack of dresses that better suit my style—simple, elegant, and distanced from the others. She reaches out, running her fingers over the intricate beading on one of the gowns. "Did you ever meet a man named Lachlan Gallagher when you were at the Ranch?"
I think back on my time at the Ranch, images of multiple men running through my mind. But no, I cannot recall him. I shake my head, and Ava nods in acknowledgment. "He was Reagan's soon-to-be mate."
"Was?"
Ava nods, her gaze drifting back to Reagan, and I can see sympathy in her eyes. "Yeah. I'm not sure if you know, but all-male wolves have to spend several seasons in Ireland, where their clan is originally from. The pack has a sort of training facility for the younger men or something. It's to help them learn how to control their wolves."
"Is that why some of them have accents?" I've always wondered how Liam's accent was so strong, considering he was born here.
"Yep. For some of the stronger males, like Liam," Ava lowers her voice further, and I know it's to help me. "They spend years over there in their early stages, traveling back and forth until they have control over their shift."
I nod, then furrow my brow. "If it's a thing, how come Shay doesn't have much of an accent?" I can understand Griffin. But Shay?
"Shay's unique. He's been training with Griffin since he was like ten, I think." Tugging a loose curl out of her face, Ava huffs. "Anyway, we were talking about Lachlan. Okay, so apparently the last time he was in Ireland, he, um, wasn't, let's just say, careful. And now he's going to be a father in 2 months."
I whisper, struggling to keep my voice calm. Memories of my time with Fido flood back, making me shudder.
"Yeah, another she-wolf. He obviously knotted her."
"Fuck!" I exhale, my heart clenching a little for Liam's sister.
"Yep, and that's not the worst part," Ava continues. "Seems the girl, the she-wolf, already has a toddler with a striking resemblance to Lachlan."
"Oh no, he didn't." This time I don't lower my voice, and I see Siobhan glance my way. I offer her an awkward wave and turn back to Ava, who has moved on to a more vintage-style gown. This one is all lace and designed for curves.
"Aha. Apparently, the asshole was going to keep his kid a secret and go ahead with the mating to Reagan. But after the second slip-up, there was no way the girl he was screwing was going to keep her mouth shut. She's already labeled a slut for having a child before being claimed, and this was just the icing on the cake."
"I don't know who I feel more sorry for," I tell Ava, subtly glancing in Reagan's direction. The girl is now sitting in a cream wingback chair and playing on her phone. "Reagan, who obviously has had her heartbroken but has dodged a massive bullet. Or the other girl."
"I'd feel worse for the other girl. Lachlan's been forced to claim her," Ava shudders, still focused on the lace dress.
"What I don't get is, the asshole obviously liked the girl he was screwing. Otherwise, he wouldn't have gone back for seconds. Why agree to claim Reagan?" I ponder aloud, eyeing Reagan who's now engrossed in her phone, seemingly oblivious to our conversation.
Ava lets go of the dress and draws me nearer, whispering into my ear, "Because she's a Brady. They're practically royalty, you know? Only the O'Connell line out ranks them."
Recalling the evening at the Manor with Isla and Shay, I nod knowingly. "Purebred wolves?" Ava doesn't reply, but I sense we're on the same page, even though Liam doesn't seem to wield the same influence.
"Anyway, to cheer her up, I asked if she still wanted to come along for a change of scenery," Ava admits, chewing on her bottom lip and squeezing my hand. "And she ended up giving her booking to Roisin."
I narrow my eyes at Ava's innocent expression, feeling a bit betrayed. "You couldn't have given me a heads up?"
"It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and a bit of an olive branch considering who's in our claiming party," Ava defends herself.
I freeze. Oh, hell no! "Who, my dearest friend, is in your claiming/bridal party?" I can't help the sneer that comes out in my question.
Ava grimaces and looks away, "well, there's you and Isla."
"And the men?" I prod, my fingers starting to tap their familiar beat. Ava inhales and turns back to me, a hand rubbing her belly. "Don't think you can pull the pregnancy card on me, girl. Spit it out!"
"Well, there's Shay, who'll be Isla's escort. You and her, being my joint claiming maids, will be partnered with Griffin's men." I nod and cock a brow, waiting for her to continue.
Oh, come on...
"And the other man?" I glare at her, and she grimaces in return.
"Seriously?" I growl. Once again, Siobhan hears me and looks my way. I dismiss her and glare at Ava.
"Yep, it was actually Siobhan's idea," Ava confesses. "The pack is finally starting to accept Griffin as more than just an enforcer, and this is a good way to solidify his place amongst them."
Seeing the sincerity and hope in Ava's eyes for her mate to finally be accepted as more than just their beast, I shake my head and reach out to pull her into a hug. Ava's body sags into mine, a sign of relief, perhaps. Moving my face to the side so that my lips are directly in front of her ear, I whisper, "don't think for one second that I believe you didn't have a hand in this."
Ava pulls back, guilt evident in her face. "But Siobhan must know having Liam and me close together is just asking for trouble."
Ava shrugs, and I sigh.
"Why is it taking so long?" Caitlín's voice, tinged with irritation, echoes through the room as a blonde assistant converses with the others.
I abandon my questions and pull Ava over to the distressed woman, who seems overwhelmed by the questioning from Roisin's mother. Clearing my throat, I see relief wash over the assistant's eyes as she notices me. "Miss Petrov, I was just explaining to the other women that Elenore is currently with a client and will be available shortly."
"We've been waiting for well over half an hour," Caitlín bristles.
"Again, we very sorry for the delay," the assistant responds, her voice pleasant but tinged with nervousness under the scrutiny of Caitlín's intense gaze. "Elenore was only expecting two fittings today, not three, and she's presently with a client, showcasing our new range."
"No need to worry, Gisselle," Ava interjects, addressing the assistant by name and subtly reminding her of their shared connection with Elenore from her time at Protech. "Tell your boss I think I've found my dress already."
I blink in surprise at Ava, whose attention has returned to the lace mermaid dress. I chuckle. "Aren't you going to at least try it on?"
"What can I say? It's love at first sight," Ava replies, her expression dreamy.
Just then, the double doors to Elenore's private showroom swing open. Louisa, Elenore's personal assistant, steps through with a broad, radiant smile that beautifully contrasts her espresso skin. Her closely cropped hair accentuates her high cheekbones, highlighting the elegance of her African heritage.
"Welcome," she announces. "Madam Elenore apologizes for her delay. She has just finished with her client and has asked me to escort you to her studio, where refreshments will be served while your viewing is arranged."
The group rises, with Caitlín still muttering complaints, and follows Louisa into a spacious sitting room. She gestures toward a cream leather sectional resting on a plush rug of matching color. As we take our seats, another assistant, previously unknown to me, offers a tray laden with champagne and sparkling water.
"Who could be more important than us?" Caitlín murmurs, clicking her tongue as she takes two glasses from the tray and turns to Ava. "I thought you said you knew the designer?"
"That would be me," a confident male voice declares from the far side of the room, and I groan inwardly, recognizing the speaker all too well. "Apologies for the intrusion, ladies, but I simply couldn't resist."
I watch as everyone turns to see the man behind the deep voice, Alexei, in all his splendor. Dressed in a grey suit, he stands beside Elenore, a leather-gloved hand at his side and a devilish grin on his face.
Instantly, Roisin and her mother straighten up, a spark of curiosity lighting up their faces. Reagan, however, seems unfazed, still glued to her phone. But it's Siobhan who really surprises me. Her expression is calm enough, but her hands are clenched into fists, her knuckles stark white.
"Mr. Mikhailov, it's nice to see you again," Ava breaks the silence. Caitlín and Roisin whip their heads toward her, shock written all over their faces.
"You know him?" Roisin whispers to Ava, her voice a mix of awe and maybe a hint of something else. Oh, girl, you have no idea...
"Ava and I are acquainted, indeed. She used to work for me," Alexei's smile broadens as he steps closer to the women. "And it's Alexei, Ava, not Mr. Mikhailov." Ava nods and returns a smile, though more reserved than before.
"And who else do we have here? I feel at a disadvantage; you all know my name, but I don't know yours," Alexei inquires, his eyes flitting between the others, pausing on Reagan before landing on me. "I always like to know the names of such lovely ladies."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mikhailov," Caitlín starts.
"Alexei," he corrects with a smooth, almost creepy charm.
"Alexei, well, I'm Caitlín Doyle, and this beautiful girl beside me is my daughter, Roisin." Caitlín seems to preen under Alexei's attention, clearly aware of his identity.
I make a gagging gesture with my finger, prompting a giggle from Ava.
Politely smiling, Alexei turns to Siobhan, who's been quiet, her face almost blank. "And you must be Siobhan Brady?" he guesses, though the smug look on his face tells me he already knows.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Mikhailov," Siobhan responds, pointedly not using his first name. First Shay, now Siobhan. Interesting.
"And who might you be?" Alexei's gaze shifts to Reagan, who finally looks up from her phone. Her expression changes from boredom to intrigue as she spots someone new behind Alexei.
"Ah, Damir, right on time," Alexei says with a grin, noticing Reagan's distraction. His right-hand man enters, stoic as ever.
"Well, I guess now that you've arrived, I'll leave you ladies to it," Alexei says, turning back to Elenore, who gives off strong Meryl Streep vibes from Devil Wears Prada. "Elenore, thank you again for seeing us. I'll leave my fiancée and her friends in your capable hands."
I snort, causing Caitlín to bristle. "Erin, manners! Do you not know who you are in the company of?" Roisin smirks at me as she sips her champagne, while Ava shakes with quiet laughter beside me.
I sigh and stand, knowing Alexei won't leave without acknowledgment. "Apologies, your majesty," I offer with a mock curtsey, amusement twinkling in Alexei's eyes. "I believe my behavior was unfitting of a man of your importance."
Damir, out of the corner of my eye, silently chuckles at my remark. "Whatever should I do to repay you for such unladylike behavior?" I hear Caitlín tsk at my apparent sarcasm.
Alexei steps up until he's right in front of me, tilting his head as if studying me, then reaches out and pulls me close, his lips meeting mine. I grin into the kiss, Caitlín and Roisin gasping in shock. But it's Reagan who really catches my attention when I pull away—a laugh bubbling from her lips, some of her spunk returning. "Oh, this is priceless. Too feckin' good to be true."
"Reagan, watch your tongue," Siobhan chides, though her voice lacks its usual sternness.
Pulling away, the residual sparks from Alexei's touch still tingling on my lips, I think I see a flicker of concern on Siobhan's face.
"Apologies, ladies, I assumed you knew that Erin is my fiancée?" Alexei says, feigning confusion. The room falls silent, and for once, I revel in the title. Take that, you thought I wasn't good enough for your precious wolves. But I have a dragon.
*******************************************************
Hello Readers,
Okay, so Roisin is there, but it's all to help Griffin (wink wink) and there is absolutely no meddling going on (Cough).
This is another scene that is written for a purpose.
Hope you enjoy...
BTW we are not far from the end of book 2 - I am only 4 chapters ahead of you and I am desperately trying to write to climax scene (bah literally)
Happy Reading
X0X0X0X0
KnightWaters